


She

by whysostussy



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Angst, Bianca has a soft spot, Bianca is just being the loveable bitch we all know and love, Boston AU, Clubbing, Denial of Feelings, F/F, Fluff, Katya's a whore, Lesbians, Lets Party, Maybe some pearlet..., My First Work in This Fandom, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Build, Smut, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Underage Drinking, bianca owns a bar, enjoy please, from friends to lovers?, i literally have no plan for this each chapter is written on the fly oops, im so tired, mentions of assault, trixie is "straight"., trixie is a barbie, trixie thinks she's straight HA, trixie's family doesn't care, trixie's stepfather is abusive, trixya - Freeform, violet's a bitch but you gotta love her, violet's not the villain i promise!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-05-28 18:30:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15055178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whysostussy/pseuds/whysostussy
Summary: Trixie Mattel is a 19 year old girl from Wisconsin, learning to accept herself after a dangerous interaction with her homophobic stepfather. Trixie leaves home and heads to Boston, where she meets Katya. Katya's a spontaneous Russian dancer, who literally just wants everyone to be happy and love (and fuck obviously). Katya teaches Trixie that she doesn't have to be the same person she was in her small town, and that you have to accept the little things that the universe has given her. And for Trixie, one of those things might just be the small Russian woman that she's sharing a room with.





	1. Can the Whole World Feel the Rain?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, this is my first fic with Trixya and I really wanted to do a story where they live in Boston and perform together and hopefully fall in love and be happy, but knowing me, these two girls are going to go through a hell of a lot of unrequited love.

The first time Trixie ran away was when she was thirteen years old. Her mother had just announced that she was remarrying after a mere 10 months since her father had passed away. Trixie’s father had been a kind man, never judging Trixie for her weird sense of humor or bizarre fashion choices, a man who believed God made everyone unique and perfect in their own way. Trixie had been devastated when he died-- in a car crash on his way home from work-- and refused to eat for days after he passed. Trixie was shocked that her mother had decided to replace her father so soon, and-- having met her new fiance-- was not too thrilled about him becoming a part of her family. 

Chad was a big man with strong religious values, and a no nonsense attitude. The first time they met, he took one look at Trixie-- clad in her pink cowboy boots (that she refused to take off)-- and sneered. It didn’t matter to him that Trixie was a child, or that she was a sensitive girl, the only thing he was focused on was how different she was from the other kids. 

You see, Trixie grew up in a very small town, where everyone knew each other, and reputations could fall in a split second. At a very young age, Trixie would rather play her guitar and hang around her house, rather than play dolls with the other girls in her neighborhood. And once Trixie got the reputation as an outcast, it stuck. 

Trixie didn’t really mind being different, but for Chad on the other hand, being different was a huge problem. After her mom announced that Chad was going to be Trixie’s new stepfather, Trixie lost it. She begged her mom not to marry him, to push off the wedding, to do anything but marry that man. Her mom, rather being understanding of the feelings Trixie was going through, was angry. She called Trixie disrespectful and ungrateful, and worst of all, told her she would not allow such behavior in her house, and that if Trixie couldn’t accept that she was happy, she should just leave. Pretty heavy for an 13 year old, huh. But Trixie, being the stubborn and opinionated girl she was did exactly as her mom told her. She left. 

Trixie packed a backpack with a sweatshirt, a toothbrush, and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and snuck out of her house in the middle of the night, guitar in hand, fully “ready” to live on her own. Obviously, at the young age of thirteen, Trixie didn’t get very far and wound up sleeping over at her best friend’s Pearl’s house, splitting her sandwich with her and venting to her about her soon-to-be stepfather. Pearl, being one of her only friends, listened to Trixie’s rant attentively, convincing her that if her stepfather was so much of an ass, his marriage with her mom probably wouldn’t last long. The next morning, Trixie awoke to her mother waiting outside in her car, having been called by Pearl’s parents and had to suffer a car ride home of her mother telling her how worried she was and how disappointed she was in her. 

6 years later, Trixie now finds herself in a similar situation. She’s sitting in her car, barely outside of her town, sobbing into her worn pink dress, mascara staining it permanently. She hates that she is leaving, because she knows that’s exactly what he wants, exactly what he intended to happen an hour before. 

After a few too many beers, Chad had been in a drunken haze when Trixie attempted to slip back into the house soundlessly, after staying too late at Pearl’s, but unfortunately for her, the house wasn’t as asleep as she thought it would be. “Well, well,” her stepfather had slurred, “ Where are you sneaking in from?”.

“Um, just Pearl’s. Sorry I’m late,” Trixie said nervously. 

Trixie remembered her stepfather getting up and telling her to stop where she was. He proceeded over to her, and Trixie felt frozen where she stood. “ You’ve been spending a whole lotta time o’re at that Pearl’s house,” Chad continued slowly, but with an edge to his voice. 

Trixie nodded. “ You a kittylicker? Been o’re there with that dyke, swapping spit,” he said menacingly. 

Trixie was trembling at this point, but she vigorously shook her head “no”. “ Are you a little slut to women?! I won’t have no lezzies in my house!” he growled. 

Trixie again shook her head, tears streaming down her face. Chad hurled the empty beer bottle he was holding at the wall, narrowly missing Trixie’s head. She felt glass shatter all around her, but she still couldn’t move-- paralyzed in fear. “ANSWER ME BITCH,” Chad roared in her face, his intoxicated breath filling her lungs. 

It was the sharp smell of the alcohol on her attacker’s breath that snapped her out of it. She bolted. Ran up the stairs to her room where she quickly packed a bag filled with clothes, toiletries, and $1000 worth of cash that she’d saved up over the years. She grabbed her guitar and climbed out the window, shimmying down the fire escape, and got in her car. She didn’t say goodbye to anyone, and didn’t stop driving until she got out of her small Wisconsin town. It is then that she breaks down. 

                                                                                                         X x X

Trixie had always wanted to move to the city. Ever since she was a young girl she dreamed about moving to New York and being signed to a record label, leaving her small town and stepfather behind her. Unfortunately for her, New York was expensive, way too expensive for the mere $1000 she had with her, so she settled for the next best thing-- Boston. 

Trixie checks into a small hotel a little outside of central boston after driving for 17 or so hours, exhausted and looking forward to a warm bed to cry herself to sleep in. Her stomach, however, disagreed. Reluctantly, she drops her bag and guitar in her room and heads into the city to find somewhere to eat. 

She ends up settling on a cafe where she orders coffee and a salad, and eats alone, blatantly ignoring the states that she’s getting from other people in the cafe. She realizes she must look like shit, and checks the camera of her phone to see her reflection. She almost gasps at what she sees. Her curly blonde hair is unruly and messy in the bun it was thrown up in, and her makeup is almost completely gone, except for several black streaks of mascara that had ran when she cried earlier in her car. Her eyes were red and puffy and quite honestly she looked like a dead person. She didn’t blame the people for staring. She probably would’ve too if she saw a 19 year old girl sitting by herself looking lost in her stained clothes, in all pink among various shades of grey, white, and black. Trixie checked her phone, almost hopeful that she’d recieve a call from her mother, telling her that she was divorcing Chad and that she was worried about her, but no such luck. On the other hand, she did have 5 missed calls from Pearl, and a variety of angry text messages. She quickly texted back Pearl, telling her that she was ok, and that she wasn’t coming back and then shut off her phone. 

Trixie looks up from her phone, and realizes the sun was beginning to set, and that she totally lost track of time. She leaves the cafe, hunger satisfied, but still feeling empty inside. It  dawns on her that she hadn’t exactly thought any of this through. She has no job, limited supply of money, and has practically no experience in city lifestyle. She shivers as the chill of the oncoming night hits her. Her boots clack noisily on the darkening street and Trixie walks a little faster, suddenly feeling vulnerable and small in the big city. 

However, Trixie’s thoughts are interrupted by the quick footsteps behind her. Trixie feels all the hair raise on her neck and she walks faster. The footsteps increased as well. Trixie’s heart is pounding in her chest and she hurriedly tries to walk toward the flashing lights and signs of the Boston club scene. Without warning, Trixie feels her body get jerked back, an iron grip on her arm. She whips her head around and faces the cat-like grin of a man dressed in all black. Her body goes cold as he looks her up and down, staring hungrily at her body, like she is his next meal. And so Trixie does the only thing she can think of. She screams. 

The man laughs and sneers at her. “ Nobody’s gonna come for you, sweetheart,”.

Trixie whimpers and struggles against the man, who is now holding both of Trixie’s wrists. “Get the hell away from me!” she yells, her voice cracking. 

The man's grip tightens on Trixie’s wrists and he starts pulling her in the direction of a dark alleyway. He shoves her roughly into the alleyway next to the bar that Trixie was trying to escape to. The man slams her against the wall, pinning her hands behind her head, his breath hitting her neck. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make it good for you,” he smirks. 

Suddenly, the man is forced off of Trixie, and her arms are released. Trixie feels frozen in place once again, and stares at the man, now crumpled on the ground, holding his nose. A dark haired lady walks cautiously toward her, wiping her hands on her jeans in the process. The woman swiftly takes Trixie’s hand and leads her through the back down of the bar next to them, into a room similar to a dressing room. She then hands Trixie a glass of water, which Trixie sips timidly. 

The woman sits across from Trixie, and her lip twitches, as if trying not to look impatient. “Are you alright, miss?” she asks. 

Her voice sounds gravelly, as if she smokes frequently, (and thinking about it, she probably does). Trixie shakes her head no, and starts to cry. Her wrists feel dirty from the man’s touch and she has no idea where she is. 

“What’s your name, hon?” she continues, trying her best to be sympathique.

“T-trixie,” Trixie chokes out, “ Trixie Mattel,”.

“Trixie, I’ll be right back. Stay here and we’re going to get this figured out,” the lady says sternly. 

Trixie nods in response, and the lady leaves, shutting the door behind her. Trixie looks around at the room she’s in right now and she decides that it’s a form of dressing room. There are lighted mirrors on the far side of the room, and the other side has clothing racks, and various couches and chairs--including the one she’s sitting in. She tries to focus on the details of the rooms, instead of letting her mind wander on what had just happened to her in the alleyway. She could’ve been raped, or worse, killed. 

Trixie’s thoughts are interrupted by the dark haired lady entering back into the room. She sits down across from Trixie once again and studies the young girl. 

“Trixie, I think you should probably stay here tonight.” she says.

Trixie doesn’t say anything, but exhales in relief. She doesn’t want to have to go back to her hotel alone. “W-where do you want me to go,” Trixie says quietly. 

“One of our performers has a room upstairs that you can stay in. I assure you she’s very kind, and will make you feel comfortable for the night,” the woman says. 

She tells Trixie that the room she will be staying in is the first door on her left upstairs, and hands her a key. 

“By the way, I’m Bianca,” the lady says, “ I own the joint, so if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask… one of our staff,”. 

Trixie laughs a little at the woman’s abrasive comment, and climbs the stairs, legs wobbling and threatening to give out. She follows Bianca’s instructions and enter the room, glad to find it empty. She sits down on the bed, discarding her dress and boots. Trixie had the full intention of showering, but after her long, eventful last couple of days, Trixie’s eyes grew heavy fast, and before she knows it, she’s fast asleep in someone else’s bed. 

Trixie wakes to the sound of someone rummaging through a suitcase, and Trixie floods with alarm. All at once, she remembers the previous night, where she is, and realizes that she’s in a random person’s bed. She sits up quickly, clutching the bed’s covers in front of her, and looks up at the person whose room she invaded. 

A lithe, blonde woman is searching frantically through one of her bags, apparently having lost something. She falters when she realizes that Trixie’s watching her. The blonde woman turns slowly, and flashes a bright smile to Trixie. “Oh, you must be Trixie,” the woman said warmly. 

Trixie nodded. “ Yeah, thats me,” she said hoarsely, “ Uh, sorry for invading your place, uhh..”. 

The woman smiled again. “ I’m Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova,” she began, “But you can call me Katya,”. 


	2. That Girl Is Poison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys sorry it took so long for the next chapter to be up! Thank you so much for your lovely comments, and I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Make sure to comment what you thought when you're done!.

The first thing Trixie notices about Katya is that she’s definitely Russian. Her full name Yekatie-- or something like that-- rolls off her tongue with a sort of exotic flare, and Trixie feels silly with her slight  Wisconsinite twang. The second thing Trixie notices is that Katya was easily the most striking person she’s ever seen. She’s slim and muscular with pale skin and intense blue eyes. Her hair is blonde, but far blonder than Trixie’s, and falls messily to her shoulders, framing her sharp, angular face. Why, Trixie’s self esteem plummets just by looking at her. 

Katya clears her throat awkwardly, obviously having caught Trixie staring at her. “Trixie..I’m very flattered but after what Bianca told me, I don’t think now is the right time,” Katya says, smirking lightly. 

Trixie goes bright red and shakes her head vigorously. “Oh! No, no, no, sorry. B-but I’m straight,” Trixie says quickly.

“Relax, I’m just messing with you, sweetheart!” Katya laughs easily. 

Trixie, on the other hand, is not amused. Her whole body goes cold at the mention of the pet name. She feels nauseous just remembering how that strange man in the alley way grabbed and pushed her around like a rag doll. Remembering the way he talked to her, telling her that it was going to be  _ good _ for her. 

Katya watches her, worriedly. “ Trixie? Are you alright?” she says softly.

Trixie nods, and stands up, her legs wobbling and Katya’s bedspread still held tightly around her body. “Um, Kat-ya? Would you mind if I took a shower?” Trixie asks. 

After Katya’s instructions, Trixie finds herself in a brightly light bathroom, small and slightly messy, but adequate nonetheless. There’s an open tube of red lipstick on the counter, along with a towel folded next to it, that Katya left out for Trixie. Trixie isn’t sure how much Katya knows about what had happened to her the previous night, but she feels grateful for Katya’s zany presence-- and for the use of her shower of course.

Trixies steps into the shower, letting the warm water engulf her, and clean away not only the touch from the man in the alleyway, but the remaining drops of dried alcohol on her neck and shoulders, left over from her stepfather’s outburst. Trixie isn’t a religious person, despite the years of church choir and sermons she listened to as a child. However, there was something very spiritually cleansing about washing away the pain and sorrow that she had faced the last couple of days. She washes her hair with Katya’s body wash, afraid to touch the expensive looking shampoos that littered her shower. Trixie showers until the bathroom mirror is fogging and the room is filled with steam, then she turns off the water and exits the shower, her mind then realizing one very important thing. 

“Katya?” she calls.

“What? Are you ok?” Katya replies through the door. 

“Um, the thing is..Would you maybe have some clothes I could borrow?”.

Trixie hears Katya rummaging around for the second time this morning, and then a light knock on the bathroom door. Trixie cracks the door open, and nearly laughs at what Katya picked out for her. The yoga pants and sweatshirt feel tiny to Trixie. 

“Katya. This is  _ not  _ going to fit me,” Trixie chuckles humorlessly. 

“Put it on. It’ll stretch, I’m sure of it,” Katya replied through the crack in the door. 

Trixie shuts the door and shimmies into the pants and sweatshirt. They’re tight, and hug her curves, but they fit and that’s all that really matters. 

“Hurry up Trixieeee” Katya whines, “I’m hungryyy,”. 

Trixie quickly puts her hair up in a wet, messy bun and exits the bathroom, feeling significantly better about the following night, but feeling self conscious in the clothes that she’s wearing. 

“Wow,”. 

Katya’s voice sounds strange, and almost husky. 

Trixie pulls the sweatshirt further over her stomach at the comment and squirms uncomfortably under Katya’s gaze. Fortunately for Trixie, Katya snaps out of whatever daze she’s in, and gestures over her shoulder to the door. 

“C’mon, let's go get something to eat, and then I’ll introduce you to the others,” Katya says. 

XxX

Katya ends up taking Trixie to the same cafe that Trixie had gone to the day before, when she first arrived in Boston. It was 11 o’clock at this point, so fortunately, the cafe still serve breakfast. After a cup of coffee, Trixie and Katya are both wide awake-- for the first time since they met-- and Katya is gazing at Trixie, particularly interested in getting to know the gorgeous, curvy, blonde Barbie sitting across from her. “So, Trixie, what brings you to the fine city of Boston?”.

The two had been sitting in silence up until then, Trixie eating her vegetarien omelette ravenously, and Katya picking at her crossisant, her hands itching to take out the pack of cigarettes in her bag. Trixie, almost chokes on her omelette. “Whuat?” .

Trixie’s answer was muffled by a mouth full of food, making her response incoherent. Much to her surprise, instead of being disgusted, Katya lets out a wheeze of laughter, laughing so hard that her hands pound against the cafe table they’re seated at. Trixie swallows and grins at Katya, happy to have met someone who seems so genuinely goofy and happy, a pleasant change from her life back in Wisconsin. “Well, I’ve always wanted to be a performer,” Trixie begins. 

“Basically, some shit happened back at home, and I was fucking sick of it. So I left,” she finished shortly. 

Katya is looking at her, impressed, but also with a mischievous glint in her pale eyes. “Consequently, we have an open spot in our lineup at the bar. Impress Bianca and the spot could possibly be yours,”.

Trixie’s overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude toward Katya. She almost can’t contain her excitement. “Holy shit, really? You mean I could get a job performing?”.

Trixie’s practically bouncing up and down in her seat, at this point. 

“Well of course. You know,  _ The Raven,  _ has never had a gorgeous Barbie perform on her stage,” Katya says flirtily. 

Trixie blushes, but quickly regains her composure. She’s quick to pick up on Katya’s advances, and she doesn’t want to give Katya the wrong idea. Hell, she doesn’t even know if Katya’s flirting or not, she barely knows the smaller woman, much less her sexual preferences, and it’s not like Katya’s sexuality would impact Trixie in any way, shape, or form. Maybe Trixie should clarify that she is indeed a heterosexual female, and that Katya’s flirting makes her uncomfortable. However, this would be a mistake because 1) Trixie is secure enough to not be made uncomfortable by a few teasing comments made by her new friend (a friend!!) and 2) randomly bringing up the topic of sexuality could imply that Trixie was trying to “secretly” come on to Katya. No, Trixie should probably just stick to changing the subject. ,  But before Trixie has a chance to respond, Katya stands up abruptly, nearly knocking over her coffee, and snaps open her phone. 

“Fuck!” she squawks. 

“I was supposed to be at rehearsal 10 minutes ago!”. 

Katya’s panicking at this point, mumbling about how Bianca’s going to kill her and about how she really really needs a smoke. Katya wastes no time ushering Trixie out of the cafe, grabbing her hand and pulling her along as she speedwalks to the  _ The Raven _ . When they finally reach the building, Katya uses all of her weight to push open the heavy, black, door, her hand still clasped on Trixie’s. 

The inside of the bar is very different from the back hallways that Trixie had seen the previous night. Sleek furniture paired with velvet cushions are strewn about the bar, all of them within viewing distance of the most beautiful stage Trixie has ever seen. And on that stage the most intimidating group of performers she’d ever seen. 

“Katya!” Bianca cries, exasperated. 

“I’m glad you decided to show up!”.

Bianca’s tone is angry, but it softens a tad when she sees Trixie, who is still clutching onto Katya  feeling alarmed and intimidated. Unfortunately for Trixie, Bianca wasn’t the only one who notices that the two women’s hands are intertwined. A tall, slender girl with obsidian colored hair also notices their embrace and hops down from the stage, her face twisted into a sneer. 

“Well, well, well, Katya. Bringing in some new trade?” the dark haired beauty taunts.

Trixie stiffens, and quickly untangles her hand from Katya’s. She’s faced her fair share of bullies, many of them calling her queer for the way she dressed and acted. Therefore, Trixie was not about to let this girl push her around, no matter how tough she may seem. 

“First of all, I’m not gay,” Trixie begins, disregarding the self-chat she had with herself back in the cafe.

“ And second of all, I think you might want to talk to Katya about this  _ jealousy  _ problem you’re having. But please, leave me out of this,”.

Katya starts cackling at this, and Trixie smiles smugly at the dark haired girl, having seen the expression of shock that painted her face for a quick second. The woman scoffs and leaves the room, muttering something about needing water. Trixie looks over at Bianca, and can tell that she’s fighting to hide a smile as well. It’s obvious that the woman who attempted to belittle Trixie, doesn’t get a taste of her own medicine very much.

“On that note, let’s take a break and introduce our guest to the rest of our lineup,” Bianca suggests. 

Katya tries to find Trixie’s hand again, but Trixie refuses, sticking her hands into the pockets of Katya’s sweatshirt. The pale eyed beauty looks up at her and shrugs, obviously trying to hide the slight bit of hurt that flashed over her face. 

The rest of the performers climb down from the stage and walk over to greet Trixie. Trixie feels relieved that the rest of the performers aren’t as vile, as the dark haired girl was. “Don’t worry about Violet,” a girl with blue hair says to her. 

“Yeah, she’s only upset ‘cause Katya won’t fuck her anymore,” a boy in overalls and a nose ring says. 

“Shh,” a man with far too much plastic surgery hisses, “ Adore, Aja, don’t let Violet catch you talking about that!”.

The boy in the overalls, who Trixie assumes is Aja mutters something about Violet being a bitch, and the blue haired girl (Adore) rolls her eyes. 

“I’m Detox, by the way,” the man says, as if it’s obvious. 

“Hi, I’m Trixie,” Trixie responds, a little overwhelmed by all the new friends she’s making. 

She searches the room for Katya, and is disappointed when she doesn’t find her, so she works her way backstage, to the hallway Bianca first took her too. Katya is whispering fiercely with Violet, and Trixie, feeling like she’s interrupting something, turns on her heels to return back to the house. “Trixie, wait,” Katya’s rough voice calls out.

Trixie turns back around meekly and is pleasantly surprised to see that Violet is no longer present. She must’ve gone back to the house to talk with the other girls. Katya digs through her purse to find a half empty pack of cigarettes, and offers one to Trixie--who declines-- before lighting one up. “Jesus fuck, I haven’t smoked all day,” Katya breathes.

Trixie cackles at the comment, finding it wildly funny that Katya’s idea of not smoking for a while was four hours. “You weakling!” Trixie exclaims, gasping for air. 

Katya shoots her a look, but ends up giggling along with her. Katya’s smoke break ends up just being her and Trixie laughing like children in the hallway backstage of the rehearsal that Katya was probably supposed to be returning to. The moment is interrupted by Adore poking her head backstage. “Hey lovebirds, Bianca wants you both back out here,” she teases. 

“Fuck off Adore,” Trixie quips, annoyed at having to shoo away queer rumors for the third time that day.

Katya and Trixie return to the house still chuckling over their joke in the hallway-- which wasn’t even that funny to begin with-- and are confronted with the glare of Violet, who has reappeared after she stormed off to get “water”. “ What the fuck is her problem,” Trixie whispers to Katya. 

“I’ll tell you another time,”.

Katya’s voice turns serious, and there’s a edge of bitterness her speech that wasn’t there before. Whatever had happened between her and Violet, Trixie isn’t sure she is ready to know, especially after just meeting both girls today. 

XxX

“Alright bitches,” Bianca announces once all the girls have returned into the house. 

Trixie is a little alarmed at the unusual greeting, but according to the rest of the casts’ faces, Bianca being a little irritable is a regular occurence. Trixie glances over at Katya, and Katya meets her eyes with a cheery smile, showing off her perfect teeth. 

“As you know, Alyssa recently got a great opportunity in LA to host her own talk show. So, she’ll be in need of a replacement,” Bianca glances over at Trixie when she says that. 

“Anyway I recently met Miss Trixie Mattel, who I assume you’ve all been acquainted to, and although I have not seen her perform I have a feeling that she’ll fit in nicely here,”. 

Violet’s bored stare snaps off her face. “What?!” she screeches. 

“The rest of us were picked by RuPaul himself to perform at this place, and  _ she  _ just gets a free pass!?”.

Trixie’s face is bright red  in embarrassment and it doesn’t help when some of the other performers mutter in agreement. Katya and Adore however, look pleased at Bianca’s announcement, smiling at Bianca eagerly. 

“Jesus fuck, let me finish Violet,” Bianca snaps. 

The taller woman huffs and taps her foot impatiently, which results in another glare from Bianca. 

“As I was saying,” Bianca continues, annoyed, “ Trixie will perform on Friday, the day Ru has said he will be in town and at the performance. It will be his decision whether she will become part of the troupe,”.

Noticing Trixie looks a tad bit confused at the mention of whoever this “RuPaul” dude is, Katya leans over and whispers to her, “ RuPaul’s the original owner of the  _ The Raven  _ but retired last month, so Bianca runs the joint now while he travels,”.

Bianca clears her throat. “Trixie, you’ll be working with Violet, as well as Adore to prepare yourself for Friday,”. 

“Good luck, Trixie, and  _ don’t  _ fuck it up,”. 

Now all Trixie has to do is survive the next few days with Violet, not fail epically on Friday, and impress RuPaul to replace a girl who’s apparently  _ Raven  _ royalty. 

What could go wrong. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading and for those of you who don't know "house" is a theater term for basically the inside of the bar not part of the stage in this case.


	3. You Don't Know How Lovely You Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm so sorry this took me so long to update, I was having some writers block and was trying to figure out a way to make my story continue more smoothly. Basically in this chapter we get some angst and fluff and implications of smut ;). I'd like to also say that I'm so so so proud of Aquaria! I knew she was going to win from the moment she walked into the werkroom and although she's not in this story, she's in my heart! Anyway I'm having such a fun time writing this story and slowly setting it up for some major upset and I hope you enjoy!! -mal

Shortly after their meeting in the house, Bianca had told Trixie that she’d be staying with Katya until the performance. Bianca also told Trixie that most of the cast had rooming provided by  _ The Raven  _ and that most of the girls (besides Katya) stayed in a small studio structure that RuPaul owned and rented out to the team at a very low cost. However since Trixie wasn’t technically part of the troupe yet, they couldn’t arrange a room for her, thus her staying with the crazy blonde Russian. 

Honestly, Trixie didn’t mind staying with Katya. Over the few days that they’d known each other, they’d become close fast and aside from Katya’s silly flirting, she felt very comfortable with the older woman. Katya, apparently felt the same way because she helped Trixie get her things from her hotel room and move them into her tiny room at  _ The Raven.  _

Trixie hadn’t brought very much from home. Only her guitar, her favourite pink clothes, and a large makeup collection that she’d acquired after working for Sephora when she was 16. The one thing she missed about home was Pearl. Pearl had always stuck by her side when she’d come to her house crying about the latest thing that Chad had done or said. She’d always say, “ Trixie, I know you’re not gay-- and it’d be fine if you were-- but you’re obviously not cause if you were, you would’ve tapped this ass a long time ago,” .

Trixie would smack her and laugh, Pearl’s lazy, but hilarious personality never failing to make her laugh. This is why Trixie was so disappointed that Pearl hadn’t contacted her after the one measly text message Pearl’d sent after Trixie left home. Neglect and failure are Trixie’s biggest fears, so the fact that her family didn’t even care where’d she’d disappeared to was eating her alive. And apparently it showed. 

xXx

Trixie was sitting on Katya’s overstuffed, ratchet-looking, flowered armchair on Wednesday morning (two days from her performance) staring at her phone in anticipation. For a call, a text, anything really. 

Katya pokes her head in from the hallway-- where she’d been smoking her second cigarette of the morning. “Dude what’s wrong?”. 

Trixie looks up at Katya’s concerned face and bursts into tears. Katya quickly puts out her cigarette and rushes over to where Trixie is sitting, alarmed. Fat tears roll down Trixie’s cheeks and she struggles to control them, not wanting to bother Katya. “Shh, shh, it’s ok  moya lyubov'” Katya whispers, stroking Trixie’s hair. She’s kneeling on the floor in front of the armchair, and Trixie sags forward into Katya’s touch, nearly sending the russian woman flying backward. Trixie sniffles and opens her mouth, “Before I left..” she begins tearily. 

Katya had her hand on her thigh, rubbing in circular motions, soothing Trixie. “You don’t have to tell me,” Katya interrupts gently. 

“No, I want to, I need to really,” Trixie insists. 

She continues. “Before I left home, my stepfather attacked me. He called me homophobic slurs and threw a beer bottle at my head,”.

“Thankfully he missed,” Trixie laughed humorlessly.

She looks at Katya, who’s looking at her with what looks like pity. Wait no, not pity. Sympathy. Trixie pulls the blonde into her lap and sighs against her. “Basically, my family hasn’t been in touch with me at all since, and Pearl-- who’s my best friend-- messaged me once, and I haven’t heard from her again,”. 

“Well, she doesn’t deserve you. I’ll be your best friend now, mama,” Katya responds without missing a beat. 

Trixie opens her mouth to speak, but doesn’t and lets her mind unwind, a small smile forming on her lips. It’s soothing to know that Katya likes her enough to want to be her best friend after the measly two days they’ve known each other. But frankly, Trixie feels like she’s known Katya for years. 

Katya’s head is resting against Trixie’s shoulder, after listening to the young woman talk. She thinks that she should be focused on how to comfort Trixie, rather than imagining how Trixie’s golden hair would look like reflecting the sun. Luckily, Katya’s presence is all Trixie needs to relax and allows the other blonde to braid bits of her hair. They’re both completely silent, but it’s not awkward between them, in fact, Trixie doesn’t remember the last time she’s felt this comfortable around someone. 

Even around Pearl, Trixie always felt a little on edge, a little overshadowed by how gorgeous and cool her best friend had been in high school-- which is one of the reasons she started dressing like a 70s barbie (up until she realized she actually really loved her style). But around Katya, the same pressure isn’t there. Sure, there’s no denying that Katya is stunning, with her slightly messy blonde bob, pale eyes, and nearly perfect physique, but Katya veiled her beauty by the her dark messy makeup and wacky sense of style Hell, even Trixie wouldn’t feel overshadowed by someone who wears babydoll hands as accessories like Katya shamelessly does. 

Trixie is pulled out of her fruitless thinking by when Katya abruptly stops playing with her hair. Trixie looks at the solemnity of Katya’s face, and realizes the russian is still mulling over what Trixie had told her. Trixie studies Katya’s face, trying to read her expression, trying to figure out what she’s going to say. Katya’s response is almost hesitant. “Sometimes, the most beautiful people go through the most pain,” she murmurs. 

Trixie’s quiet, soaking in what Katya had just said. The comment was delivered without Katya’s normal joking tone and whether she was flirting or not, Trixie doesn’t know. What Trixie does know is that there’s a surge of anxiety rolling through her chest. Cause for the first time since high school, Trixie feels butterflies.

XxX.

Trixie arrives at the bar a couple hours later for her first rehearsal. She’s nervous about getting direction from Violet, who seems to hate her for some reasons, but relieved that Adore will be there to reassure her. Trixie readjusts her guitar case in her hand while she waits for Violet and Adore in the house. Her face is bare of her usual plethora of makeup, and her hair is perched on the top of her head in a messy bun. A dark skinned woman that Trixie doesn’t know comes up to her while she waits, a lopsided smile on her face. “Hey, I’m Shangela! You must be Trixie,” the woman says brightly. 

“I’m one of the bartenders, and I sometimes help Bianca backstage. I heard that you’re going to be working with Violet today, so I just wanted to say good luck”.

Trixie watches as Shangela polishes glasses that already seem to be crystal clear. Maybe it’s a habit? Trixie doesn’t know. She does know that she’s looking forward to getting to know the friendly bartender and learning more about her and her contagious energy. 

Trixie doesn’t get the chance to respond to the dark skinned woman, as Violet had just entered the room, but she flashes Shangela a quick smile, grateful for the kind gesture, and sees the woman disappear somewhere backstage, her glasses abandoned. 

Violet’s face is twisted into a smug smile, and Trixie can’t help but feel a little afraid of her. However this fear doesn’t distract from the fact that Violet looks incredible. The ebony haired lady is wearing tight black spandex that show off legs--that Trixie was undeniably jealous off-- and a deep red sports bra. Violet’s tresses were slicked back into a sleek ponytail that was almost as shiny as her leather thigh length boots. Trixie visibly gulped. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Mattel,”. 

Trixie nodded and glanced quickly around for Adore. Of course she was late, Adore was always late. Trixie takes her guitar out of its battered case and quickly checks the tuning before joining Violet on the stage. “Let me hear your introduction to the crowd,” Violet says impatiently. 

Trixie rolls her eyes to herself, but complys, adjusting the mic and stand setup for her on the stage for her rehearsal. “Hi, my name is Trixie Mattel, and I’m new at the Raven, but hopefully I won’t be new for long..” .

Trixie’s rambling. She knows it. But in her defense the only time she’s ever performed for people was for her church, when she used to lead the hymn songs. “Pathetic. And you’re rambling,” Violet snarls. 

Trixie glares at the taller woman. It’s not her fault she hasn’t done this before, plus isn’t Violet supposed to be teaching her how to do this stuff? Violet’s voice is sharp when she speaks again. “ All you have to do is introduce yourself, tell the audience what you’re performing, and then execute that performance to perfection,”. 

“Got it,” Trixie responds shortly. 

The tension in the air is thick when Trixie speaks again. “Hi, my name is Trixie Mattel and I’ll be singing Sk8er Boi by Avril Lavigne,”.

She glances over at Violet, who looks unimpressed but gestures for Trixie to proceed in her song. 

**He was a boy**

**She was a girl**

**Can I make it any more obvious**

Trixie’s voice rings out clear and loud in the bar, her fingers strumming her guitar in perfect rhythm. She continues with the song, her foot tapping to the beat, not fully throwing herself into it until she reaches the chorus. 

**He was a skater boy**

**She said see you later boy**

**He wasn't good enough for her**

Her eyes are closed and she flings herself into the song. Her fingers find the appropriate chords naturally, taking her back to the many hours she spent in her bedroom learning and perfecting this song until she could do it in her sleep. It was the first full song she learned how to play that wasn’t a Christian hymn, and therefore held a special place in her heart. 

**She had a pretty face**

**But her head was up in space**

**She needed to come back down to earth**

She draws out the last word of the verse, her voice carrying a small riff. Trixie feels comfortable and passionately sings this song, and she’s feeling very good. She opens her mouth the start the second verse when Violet stops her. 

“ Not horrible,”  Violet begins, her lips unturned menacingly, “ But I’m not sure about the song choice,”. 

Trixie frowns. “Well I think it was fucking fantastic,” a happy voice calls out from the house.

Both Trixie and Violet turm their heads in the direction of the voice and are met with Adore, and surprisingly, Bianca, standing near the entrance of  _ The Raven.  _ Adore’s blue hair is messy and Bianca has traces of bright lipstick-- that looks suspiciously like the color Adore wears frequently-- on her neck. Judging by the annoyed, bored look on Violet’s face, this isn’t a rare occurrence.

“Nice of you to show up, Adore,” Trixie grumbles.

Adore shrugs and tears herself away from Bianca, who sheepishly mutters something about finding Shangela, and climbs lazily on the stage. 

“It’s not like you missed much,” Violet adds coldly. 

Trixie glares at her again. She’s growing tired of being picked on by the burlesque dancer, and her patience is wearing thin. “ Your song choice is tired and doesn’t allow you to show much emotion. If you want to impress Ru, you gotta pull on his heartstrings a little,” Violet states. 

Adore nods hesitantly. “Listen Trixie, I hate to say it but she’s right. You need to show Ru your pain-- he’s a sucker for a sob story,”.

Trixie sucks in a breath and plucks her guitar strings absentmindedly. She nods in agreement. Violet smiles triumphantly. “Think Trixie. Is there anyone here or at home that you could sing to? I know it helps me to think about someone when I sing a more emotional song,” Adore glances quickly at Bianca, who’s talking to Shangela in the wings about something. 

Trixie thinks about Katya, about how she made her feel earlier, and shakes the thought out of her head. Shakes the butterflies out of her stomach. It’s crazy. Sure, Katya was one of the best friends Trixie has made here, but that’s it. Friendship. 

“Katya?” Adore teases suggestively. 

Violet’s head snaps up, but the two other girls don’t notice. Trixie laughs and shakes her head. “Shut the fuck up Adore, we’ve been over this,”. 

“Surely, there has to be some pain in that Barbie facade,” Violet interrupts venomously. 

Trixie’s laughter stops, and she looks at Violet, who is staring at her cuticles innocently.

“Hmm, like maybe Daddy found out you were a big fat lesbian? Is that why you ran away,” she continues. 

Trixie’s hands were clenched, her nails digging into her skin. “Violet, stop,” Adore warned. 

“What? Your family didn’t fucking want you, so you decided ‘Hey, I’ll go to Boston, maybe someone will love me there’”. 

“Violet!” Adore growls. 

Trixie’s eyes are brimming with angry tears and she shakily sets her guitar down. Violet takes a step closer to her, eyes blazing. “And guess what?” Violet whispers.

“Nobody fucking does,”.

Hot tears are running down Trixie’s face. She’s furious, much so that she doesn’t even register her hand raising from her side until after the brunette is holding her cheek. There’s a mark in the shape of Trixie’s hand that’s almost as red as her vision. Adore’s hand is over her mouth in a gasp. Trixie’s head is clouded with rage, and she lunges again at the dark haired woman. 

“What the hell is going on here?” Bianca yells, stomping on to the stage. 

Shangela and none other than Katya are following close behind her. Katya meets Trixie’s eyes, a concerned look on her face, and walks more quickly over to the younger woman. Katya’s arms are around Trixie in an instant, and Trixie slumps into the russian. “Shhh, shh. 

я здесь ангел,” Katya mumbles softly into Trixie’s hair. 

“Violet, I don’t know what you did, but get the fuck out,” Katya hisses, looking up from Trixie’s embrace. 

Adore nods in agreement. “You heard the bitch. Go cool off, we’ll see you tomorrow with hopefully a different attitude,” Bianca orders. 

Violet opens her mouth, then closes it. She huffs and stalks away, dramatically holding her cheek for affect. 

Trixie finally lifts her head off of Katya’s small shoulder. Her tears had run out quickly, and most of her anger has subsided. She catches Adore’s eye. “Adore, do you think you could set me up with someone?” she asks meekly. 

Adore smiles. “C’mon, let’s get lunch, and then I’ll tell you about the cool place we’re taking you tonight,”. 

Trixie releases Katya and loops her arm in Adore’s, but not before glancing over her shoulder at Katya. Katya smiles brightly and joins them, hiding her displeasure of the idea of Trixie “being set up with someone”. 

“C’mon Bea, let’s go!” Adore calls from over her shoulder. 

The tension in the bar has dissipated, and is now filled with Trixie’s hope and Adore’s childish glee. Bianca smiles and follows them out the bar, her and Katya walking behind Trixie and Adore. Both women smiles to themselves, watching the young joy on Trixie and Adore’s faces as they skip down the street. 

“What did a bitter old woman like me do to deserve this,” Bianca chuckles lightly to herself.

And Katya, watching Trixie in front of her, the younger woman’s mood having changing so drastically in the past ten minutes, feels butterflies. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed the little Biadore I threw in there, as well as Trixya "platonic" fluff obviously. I really love writing Violet character and I'm excited to give her some backstory in later chapters. I know she's usually the villain in trixya fics, and while she definitely is a bitch, I don't plan on her being totally rude for the entire story. 
> 
> Additionally I really want to make some friends in the fandom, so if anyone wants to be friends or possibility help with editing or ideas (I don't really know what betaing is but maybe that?) please message me on tumblr @glossymaladroit.
> 
> Comment what you thought below!


	4. Because I Know That You're Gayzing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus fucking christ, there are no words to say how sorry I am about how late this chapter is. Honestly, this chapter was so hard for me to write and I'm really not that happy with it, but this chapter is extremely important for setting up the scene for the next one, WHICH IS GOING TO BE GOOD I SWEAR. Also I'm sorry I haven't added Violet being adorable yet, I promise that is to come!! 
> 
> Please read this and critique it and destroy my little teenage brain cause I need to improve so so bad! If anyone is interested in editing or betaing for me please message me on glossymaladroit on tumblr!! Love you guys and hope you enjoy!

“Adore, I don’t understand why you think pink is such an atrocity,” Trixie sighs, exasperated. 

Her and Adore were scrunched on a small bench in front of a vanity in Adore’s small apartment. Although the vanity was littered with various powders-- some of which Trixie wasn’t sure were all makeup-- the apartment was fairly clean. 

“Bitch, I’m a fucking goth mermaid,” Adore declares.

The blue haired girl is meticulously flicking out her black eyeliner, creating a wing. Trixie examines the older girl’s eyeshadow, wondering how she managed to use so many shades of brown without it looking like she has mud in her eye. Trixie applies blush to her cheeks, giving her face some color to contrast her harsh contour. 

“Trixieeeeee,” Katya whines from the bathroom. 

Trixie rolls her eyes. “What!?” .

“I don’t know what to wear! Help me pick something out?” .

Trixie slowly gets up from the bench, careful not to knock over any makeup. Trixie hasn’t changed yet either, as she’s not really sure the setting of the nightclub that Adore told them about at lunch, so she’s clad in a matching baby blue bra and underwear set, with a plush pink robe over the top of it. Her hair has been styled to perfection, her gold ringlets shining from a light layer of hairspray. Trixie stands in the doorframe of the bathroom, watching Katya rummage through an overnight bag that she had grabbed from her room after lunch. The older woman was also wearing a robe, in an atrocious color of grey, that Trixie wanted to burn. “Ok!” Katya began, standing up out of her crouch. 

“So, what'd ya think blondie,” Katya asks, gesturing to the two outfits she was struggling to juggle in her arms. 

Trixie screams out a laugh. “What?! What’s wrong with them?”. 

“It-it’s just,” Trixie giggles, “ They look nearly exactly the same,”. 

“No they don’t!”

“Yes, Katya, they do,”.

Trixie’s chortling with fervor, the fact that Katya’s russian accents breaks through when she’s confused. 

“Nooo; This one’s red and this one’s black!” Katya argues. 

Trixya gestures for Katya to hand her the red outfit, and Katya complies, relinquishing the red garment. Trixie feels the material in her hand and realizes that it’s not only sequined with red, but when she runs her hand over it, the sequins change to silver. Trixie’s gaping at the garment now. Being from a small Wisconsin town, she never had access to high fashion, and holding this sparkling halter top felt surreal to her. “Where did you get this?” Trixie asks, in awe. 

Katya grins. “It was a gift from my younger sister, after I, uh, cleaned up my act,”. 

“Bitch if you don’t wear that I’m going to chop you up and feed you to Violet,” Trixie deadpans. 

Katya wheezes out a laugh. “Yeah ok, I just need help getting it on,”. 

And with that, the russian drops her robe. 

XxX

Katya didn’t really consider the possibility of Trixie being rather alarmed of her nearly naked body, but I guess she should’ve considering the younger girl’s reaction. 

“What the fuck, Katya!?” Trixie sputters. 

The golden haired girl had her eyes cast on the floor, her face visibly red. Katya smirks; She knows that she has a nice body, but she’s never received a reaction quite like this. The russian also knows that she should feel guilty about exposing the supposedly “straight” girl to such a  _ scandal _ , but she can’t help it. Ever since she laid eyes on Trixie she knew the girl wasn’t as straight as she told everyone, and Katya’s gaydar was impeccable. She shimmies into her pants, which were made of the same color-changing material as her tight, cropped top. Trixie’s eyes raised from the floor at this point, her face still flushed, and she’s awkwardly watching Katya. Katya puts her arms through the tight crop top and struggles to twist her arms back to zip it up. 

“Well? Are you just going to gawk at me or are you going to help?” Katya teases, turning around to display her unzipped top. 

“Uh, yea sure,” Trixie says nervously. 

The younger girl doesn’t know why she’s nervous, she’s seen some of her friends back home in far less than Katya is displaying , but somehow this feels different. Katya swivels her head around and raises her eyebrow at Trixie. Trixie stalls, wringing her hands as she meets Katya’s eyes. She can hear Adore yapping to Bianca on the phone from here, the blue haired girl probably making a mess at the vanity still.

Trixie steps closer to her friend, her brown eyes locking with the russian’s blue ones. Electricity is crackling between them, and Trixie isn’t sure if she’s the only one who feels it. She takes a deep breath and fumbles with the zip of the glittery top. Trixie’s hands feel under circulated and cold, and she struggles to connect the box to the pin. She can hear the droplets from the faucet hitting the bottom of the sink as she tries to focus on getting the damn zipper closed. Cause the sooner she zips Katya up, the sooner she create a little distance between both of them. 

Katya shifts her weight from once foot to the other. The change of movement throws Trixie off, her icy hands skidding across the warm skin of Katya’s back. Trixie doesn’t miss the way that Katya’s breath hitches as her hand makes contact with her exposed skin. 

“Sorry,” she whispers, her breath hot on Katya’s neck. 

Katya shivers, her voice a little breathy. “It’s fine,”. 

Trixie finally jerks the pull tug to the top of the teeth of the zipper. She exhales, not realizes that she had been holding her breath in the first place. “There. Done,”.

“Thank you,” Katya turns around slowly. Her breath is a little shallow, but if Trixie notices she doesn’t mention it. However, Trixie does notices is how the glittery outfit flawlessly hugs Katya’s body. Her muscular thighs are shown off perfectly, and the creamy, pale skin on her midriff is framed by red and silver, her abs glistening with traces of sweat. Oh, how Trixie would like to run her hand across them. 

Trixie mentally shakes the thought out of her head. She’s straight. Sure, she’s made out with girls during silly games of truth or dare or spin the bottle at sleepovers when she was in high school, but that was meaningless. Right?

“I know I’m gorgeous, mama, but do ya really have to stare?” Katya laughs, breaking the remaining tension that was still in the room. 

Trixie forces a laugh, and leaves Katya alone in the bathroom, ignoring the tingling feeling at the bottom of her stomach. 

XxX

Adore insists on taking the subway, despite Bianca and Katya’s protests, arguing that Trixie needed to experience true Boston culture. “I would’ve been fine with an Uber,” Trixie whines, her white pumps echoing on the cement ground. The subway stop smells like piss and smoke, which probably was coming from Katya, who had lit a cigarette almost the second they left Adore’s housing unit. 

Trixie’s on edge. It had been over an hour since their moment in Adore’s bathroom, but Trixie’s stomach was still bubbling with confusion. She takes a deep breath.  _ Ok Trixie, these are your friends. You’re going to go to this club, drink some alcohol, and dance with some hot guys. Everything’s going to be fine.  _

“You okay, mama?” Katya said, puffing out a fresh cloud of smoke. 

Trixie nodded and smiled, her body relaxing. She’s with friends, friends who care about her and just want to show her the city life that she was missing out on in Wisconsin. She leans against the russian woman, taking in the scent of smoke and, underneath that, the faint smell of vanilla. 

“Have either of those two been on a subway before?” Trixie asks, laughing, and gesturing to Adore and Bianca who were arguing over how to properly work the ticket machine. 

Katya wheezes a laugh. 

“We’re utterly fucked,” she cackles with mirth. 

A light breeze sweeps through the subway, leaving Trixie shivering. She’s underdressed for the New York nighttime cold, her white leather skirt reaching her mid thigh, and a baby pink halter top revealing a bit of skin at her waist. Her long legs teetering on a pair of pink pumps that match her shirt. This was one of the few outfits that Trixie brought from home, and one of her favourites. She liked it because it showed off her curves, and her long, tan leg plus, pink is always a winner in her book. 

Katya noticed the younger girl’s shiver and wrapped her arm around her. The russian woman was warm and Trixie nestled into the embrace, grateful. 

“Hey lovebirds, we got the tickets, let’s go!” Bianca calls, impatiently. 

Trixie rolls her eyes. She’s beginning to get over the suggestive comments made by her friends, after realizing that she was being too sensitive and the jeers were common among the girls that worked at the bar. She’d figured out that Shangela was crude, Detox was shady, Adore was childish, Bianca was blunt, and Violet… well, to Trixie, the comments Violet made didn’t classify as jokes. 

Trixie untangles herself from Katya--much to the shorter girl’s displeasure-- and skips over to Adore, looping her arm into the blue haired girl’s and snatching her ticket from Bianca, whose hand was intertwined with Adore’s. Trixie raised an eyebrow, she was beginning to think that whatever Bianca and Adore had, was more than just simple fun. 

The four woman boarded the subway easily. It was around 10 pm and the subway was empty, besides a few other clubbers. Trixie wrinkled her nose. The interior of the subway car they were inhabiting smelled more strongly of piss than the station did. 

“How long is this supposed to take?” Trixie whined. 

“Cool it Barbie, we’ll be there in like, ten minutes,” Bianca replied, rolling her eyes at the younger girl. 

“By then, I’m not going to have a sense of smell. Holy fuck, that means I’m only going to have 4 senses, instead of five!” Trixie cried overdramatically. 

Katya and Adore laughed at Trixie’s performance, much to the blonde’s pleasure. 

“C’mon Willow, loosen up! You’re not working tonight,” Adore said sweetly, her green eyes boring into Bianca’s head. 

“I’ll loosen up once I’ve got some booze in me,”. Bianca was grumbling, but a small smile formed on her lips when Adore started laughing at her. 

Trixie’s heart hurt. She couldn’t wait until she found someone that looked that her like that. 

XxX

The nightclub they were at was called _Adrenaline_ , filled to the brim with colorful people in colorful clothes, their veins infused with different shades of alcohol. Music was blaring and people were dancing freely, their bodies slick with sweat. 

Trixie had never experienced anything like this. Back home in Wisconsin, the bars and clubs consisted of one redneck bar, and one dreadfully cheesy karaoke bar both of which Trixie had been to, and not enjoyed. However, Trixie had a feeling that she’d be more than content with the joint that her and her three friends had just arrived at. 

There was a line outside the door of the club, roped off and freckled with bouncers.  “Guys, we’re never going to get in there. Plus I’m underage, I’m not going to be allowed to drink,” Trixie sighs.

“Oh Trixie, leave it to the adults honey; we already thought of this,” Adore laughs, as she turns and walks up to the bouncer at the front of the club. 

Trixie watches silently as Adore slinks to the bouncer, her hips swaying seductively and her fingers looping around strands of her hair. Trixie feels Bianca stiffen beside her as Adore cups her hands around the flustered guard’s ear, whispering something. She sees the guard blush and fumble for the drink tickets stuffed in his pockets.

Adore turns and grins at her friends, gleefully holding up three drink tickets and gesturing for them to join her at the front of the line where the bouncer is unclipping the rope to let them in. 

“How the fuck did she do that?” Trixie whispers to Bianca in amazement.

“Let’s just say Adore can be very… persuasive,” Her voice has a bit of an edge to it, and its apparent that Bianca dislikes this specific talent of Adore’s. 

Trixie, Katya, and Bianca follow Adore through the entrance of the club easily, without the hassle of asking for drink tickets or checking ids (which was good for Trixie, considering she’s underaged). 

Trixie hesitated, before following Katya and Bianca into the blaring crowd. She’d be lying if she said that she wasn’t intimidated by the flashing lights and odor of alcohol enveloping the club. A cool hand clasps around her wrist and she flinches. 

“Jesus Katya, you scared the fucking hell outta me,” Trixie yells over the loud music, looking up at the older blonde woman.

Katya’s face is illuminated by lights, making her catlike grin shine. “C’mon, let’s dance mama!”. 

Trixie grins and joins her friend among the mass of bodies grinding and bumping on the dance floor. 

_ Oh, so this is what happiness feels like. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, Trixie's happy for a chapter? Ha, not for long bitch. 
> 
> Please review below and tell me something about yourself!!  
> -Mal (glossymaladroit on tumblr).

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment what you thought! Reviews get me to write faster!! Also I love constructive criticism so feel free to share your opinions down below!!


End file.
